[ Konstantin is used to pain by this point, and even has a high threshold for it, something built up over so many years — but there's something else to this, something worse. As though what's wrong in him is even more wrong. He should be healing at least somewhat by now, if the creature is still inside of him.
....Is it? He can't feel the mental connection to the horror, the way he'd been able to over the past weeks since it took up residence inside of him, began to force the two of them to "bond". He can't sense its presence at all, but he thinks he physically feels it, a foreign sensation inside of him, something that makes him unbearably sick, nauseated. It takes up nearly all of the space inside of his stomach, and without the medication that the facility scientists gave him to null those effects....
But if it's inside of him... why isn't he healing? It makes no sense. Unless it, too, is wounded, perhaps needs much time to recover.... He can't know, only knows one thing in this moment, and it's pain and discomfort. He hears the door open but can't attempt to look over, just throwing up that stream of thick blood before it tapers off a bit, and with it, his strength dies. Konstantin topples over onto the snowy porch, and slowly tries to roll over onto his back and sit up a little bit, spine pressed against the porch railing as he weakly lifts his head up and blinks glossily at the person in the doorframe.
...It's a young man, doe-eyed, startled. Konstantin's giving ragged breaths, tries to swallow against the taste of blood in his throat. Tries to speak, and manages to, although it's weakly, and his eyes are going half-lidded with each word as he fights to stay conscious. ]
NO WORRIES EVER (cw: mention of parasitic alien)
....Is it? He can't feel the mental connection to the horror, the way he'd been able to over the past weeks since it took up residence inside of him, began to force the two of them to "bond". He can't sense its presence at all, but he thinks he physically feels it, a foreign sensation inside of him, something that makes him unbearably sick, nauseated. It takes up nearly all of the space inside of his stomach, and without the medication that the facility scientists gave him to null those effects....
But if it's inside of him... why isn't he healing? It makes no sense. Unless it, too, is wounded, perhaps needs much time to recover.... He can't know, only knows one thing in this moment, and it's pain and discomfort. He hears the door open but can't attempt to look over, just throwing up that stream of thick blood before it tapers off a bit, and with it, his strength dies. Konstantin topples over onto the snowy porch, and slowly tries to roll over onto his back and sit up a little bit, spine pressed against the porch railing as he weakly lifts his head up and blinks glossily at the person in the doorframe.
...It's a young man, doe-eyed, startled. Konstantin's giving ragged breaths, tries to swallow against the taste of blood in his throat. Tries to speak, and manages to, although it's weakly, and his eyes are going half-lidded with each word as he fights to stay conscious. ]
Do you..... have a phone, son....?